There's blood on your legs, I love you
by anniebrackett
Summary: "They know it's sick to try and cancel out their pre-existent hurt with more hurt, but they'd rather ruin each other than let the memory of Michael Myers do it for them." Snippets of the relationship they both try to pretend is healthy and functional.


**Author's Note: **Roughly inspired by a different Annie/Laurie story of mine, "Cherry Wine". This one takes things a step further, looking at their relationship in a grittier, more violent and abusive light.

* * *

Annie's insecurities, Laurie's pills, and their individual traumas all make a relationship between them impossible. They're unable to communicate, and even worse at forgiving. They spend the time between periods of calm yelling over issues they are incapable of getting over, and Annie wants to believe it'll get better eventually. Deep down she knows it won't.

You would think that after all they've suffered through, they wouldn't want to hurt each other, but somehow it's done the opposite and become the only thing they know how to do.

* * *

Every weekend, Laurie goes out with friends from work, and Annie wants to be her almost as much as she wants to make her hurt for letting that other girl touch her.

Every weekend, she screams at the blonde for getting home too late, and scoffs when Laurie asks her if that's what she's actually upset about. They know it isn't, but don't bother to sit down and actually talk about it. They settle for fucking hard on the nearest surface, all teeth, nails, and fistfuls of hair and flesh. Annie falls apart in Laurie's hands, giving up some of the control she finds herself clinging to more and more these days.

* * *

Annie drinks tequila and smokes the cigarettes she pretends to hate; Laurie washes down her pills with an unhealthy amount of vodka. Everything feels numb except for each other, and it's the only time they can confess to being in love.

The first time she's completely sober in months, Laurie accidentally moans out "I love you" combined with "baby". Annie just pushes her down a little harder, digging her fingers so deep into the blonde's hips there'll be bruises for weeks to come, and pretends she can't hear her.

* * *

Whenever their altercations become physical, they talk themselves into believing it's just a form of fucked up foreplay. They end up tangled together, sweaty and gasping, so what's the difference?

The following day always leads to Laurie on her knees in front of Annie, pressing kisses to the marks she left, and whispering "I'm sorry" across the bruised skin. Annie squeezes her eyes shut and refuses to make a sound.

* * *

The one thing Annie likes about Laurie's new look is how easily her longer hair wraps around the brunette's hand. Laurie reacts by dragging her nails down Annie's back, simultaneously sinking her teeth into the shorter girl's neck. Annie doesn't know whether to moan or cry out, so she does a mix of both.

* * *

Annie is so set on believing that Laurie's out with other girls, doing to them what she does to her, that Laurie is constantly on the edge of telling her all about some fake story where Harley worked her way into her jeans. But then she remembers the look on Annie's face when she confessed to kissing Mya once, and how afterwards she felt so guilty she threw up in the alley behind the bar, that she just keeps her mouth closed and rolls her eyes.

* * *

"You're the only good thing I know," Laurie traces the scars that criss-cross down Annie's ribs. "You keep me sane."

Annie leans up and kisses her, and they both desperately try and pretend that what she said is true.

* * *

What they have is codependent, abusive, and just plain toxic. It's everything Laurie's therapist warned her against, but they scream at each other until their throats are raw, or until one of them pushes the other against the wall. They know it's sick to try and cancel out their pre-existent hurt with more hurt, but they'd rather ruin each other than let the memory of Michael Myers do it for them.

As Halloween nears, they settle for the rare quiet moments where there isn't an uncomfortable air between them, and try to be content with it.


End file.
